The Dark City Chronicles ⁓ Book One
The creatures of evil won't stand a chance! The Demon's Reprisal is an action-packed novel with spicy romance, seductive vampires, dark humor, budding love, and the everlasting bonds of friendship.
After the death...
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The faint tapping of blood dripping from the steel of the blade is a muted melody he's heard many times before and basks in because it means the fight is over. He won. Never a doubt, but he likes to be reminded of his morality ever so often. The death-filled quiet falls over what was once a din of violent grunts, screams, and shouts. The last moments of a vampire that Kane had almost decapitated near the shelving that conceals the elevator are breathy groans and a soft whimper. Then it's silent.
After a steadying breath, Kane is on the move once again, his body fatigued from his early exertion of magic while trying to keep Reid from Gabriel's clutches, his people everywhere like cockroaches. Henrik had taken a grisly hit to his side that, even in wolf form, looked ghastly. He was alive the last time Kane saw him, hobbling to the safety of the elevator with vague directions to the parking lot, his daughter's arm keeping his furry form upright.
Kane's been left to clean up the last of the vampires coming at them with the tenacity only a cult could ignite, fighting to the death, even with fear in their eyes upon seeing their brethren cleaved. Lucas went, on Kane's order, to find Reid after a piquing of Kane's deepest instincts, one to which he's learned to listen, told him that the idiot was in trouble. Then Colby came rushing in, snot-nosed and sobbing. Reid's in trouble, is all she said.
Concern for Reid is the only thing on his mind. Kane makes it to the opening of the shelving's makeshift corridor leading towards the back of the storage room, but then a hand grabs the lapel of his open jacket, and he's shoved flush with a tower of wooden crates. Strength doesn't keep him pinned. The familiar brown eyes, glowing with power, have struck him witless.
Hannah looks more or less unharmed, except for a darkening bruise on her forehead. But, nevertheless, she seems off, and it rouses Kane's worry.
"Hannah—" Kane's quieted with a kiss.
Their lips meet harshly. There's an electric sensation that isn't all that pleasant that zaps up Kane's arms, ascends the nape of his neck, and settles in his mind, awakening every instinct he possesses to roar for him to fight. But he physically can't pull away from the kiss, which is heady and consuming.
